Masquerade
by Cybra
Summary: When the school has a Halloween masquerade ball, two children meet incognito. 1DC and minor editing done.
1. Swan Princess

Masquerade

By Cybra

**A/N:**  This story is in two parts, each part named for the costume the chapter is focused around, so don't think that this is it.  ^^  And I know it's weird that this is centered on a Halloween celebration _now, but just roll with it._

**Special Notes:**  The name "Dolores" to name the Delightful Child with the bow was first used by Tikalightning in his _superb story "Operation DOLL," and I have his permission to use it.  (And I insert a shameless plug to boost his ego.  ^.-  And thank you to the __nice reviewers who spotted my minor spelling mistake!)  There is also a spoiler for __The Phantom of the Opera in here, so if you're planning on seeing the musical or reading the book and don't want to know about the ending, you have been warned._

**Disclaimer:**  Codename: Kids Next Door is the brainchild of one Mr. Warburton.  Bow to him, peon!

Swan Princess

Dolores had not meant to get separated from her siblings.  However, in the close maze of costumes and masks, it had been easy to get bumped away from her family.  Even though they had tried to use a common theme of princes and princesses so they could identify each other in case something like this happened, it appeared as though several other children had had similar ideas.

As what had become the norm when she came out of contact with her siblings, she felt that fierce need for group mentality start to loosen.  (Though she would never admit it, even when she was with her creepy siblings, Dolores's need to be one hundred percent in tune with the group had lately started to lessen.)  Yet now she felt isolated and nervous.

Immediately, she drifted to the wall near a darkened corner.  In the dimmed lighting, it would be difficult to pick out her siblings, but perhaps _they would be able to find __her.  All she needed to do was simply stay put._

"Good evening, Odette," an accented voice – familiar but still unidentifiable due to all of the noise of the party – cut through the loud music.

Whirling, Dolores stood face to face with a young man wearing a tuxedo with a cape wrapped around his shoulders.  He wore white gloves over his hands, giving the impression of a cultured person ready to go to the theatre, not attend a school masquerade ball.  An elegant mask, seemingly made of porcelain though she suspected it was actually cleverly disguised plastic, covered most of the mysterious boy's face.

Trying to recover her wits, she asked, "Why did you call me that?"

He smiled charmingly.  "What else do you call the princess of Swan Lake?"

Surprised that he was actually _familiar with the story, she asked, "How can you be so sure that I'm Princess Odette?  I could be any princess."_

"But not _any princess would wear a mask in the shape of a swan," he pointed out, smile widening._

Her face blushing fiercely under her mask, Dolores's hand flew up to touch what hid her identity for the night.  It was white and in the shape of a swan with its wings stretching over her pale blue eyes.  The mask went with her white dress – a dress suitable for any princess – perfectly.  To further disguise herself, she had redone her hair and done away with the bow for the night.  (She doubted that any of the Kids Next Door would be able to recognize her.)

Irrationally, she felt the need to throw _him_ off-balance.  "I suppose you figured me out, Erik."

She smiled to herself as the smile slid from his face and a look of surprise replaced it.  It felt good to catch _him off-guard!_

For a few seconds, he stared at her, groping for a response, before he started laughing.  "Lesson learned, my lady.  I wasn't expecting to be called anything except possibly 'Phantom' if you even _recognized_ my costume."

"I read the book before I saw the musical," she explained with a smile. "So, why did you decide to stand in that corner?"  She paused for a brief second as a joke concerning his costume came to her.  "Scare fair damsels and spirit them off to your kingdom of music?"

"Oh, _no.  What happens if they can't carry a tune?"  As she laughed, he winced then smiled.  "No, I couldn't stand it being so bright anymore.  The mask helps, but I needed a break."_

"Bright?" she asked, incredulous.

Glancing about, she found it hard to see.  Her eyes had adjusted a little to the dim lighting, the occasional flashing lights from the DJ's table, and the fog that the fog machine spewed out every ten minutes.  But she certainly could not describe the room as "bright."

"My eyes are _very light-sensitive,"[1] he mumbled, looking at the floor. _"This_ is bright to me."_

"Oh.  Well, that's all right.  You probably never get lost in the dark."

This seemed to cheer "Erik," making Dolores feel better.

"And what about you?" he inquired. "Why are _you_ playing wallflower?"

"I've been separated from my group," she admitted. "I decided to wait until they find me."

"Judging by how bright – dark," the strange boy corrected himself, "the room is and how loud it is, you're going to be waiting a while."

She sighed.

"Cheer up!  I think _I _can keep you suitably entertained."  He bowed elegantly, a motion completely out of place in their current surroundings.

Giggling at the absurdity of the formality of his action in spite of the informality of the situation, she curtseyed in response.  "I'm sure you can, sir."

@~^~~

As time passed, she barely noticed herself relaxing more and more while talking to her mysterious friend.  Due to his insistence, she did not tell him her name, nor did she know his.

"It _is a masquerade," he had pointed out with another of those charming smiles of his. "It's a tradition that identities are only revealed at midnight."_

So she had agreed, and, for one night, she was Odette.  Only this Odette's Prince Charming had no castle, no white horse, and the most amazing, light-sensitive sapphire blue eyes she had ever seen.  Christine had been an idiot to choose Raoul.[2]

Amazingly enough, "Erik" read more than comic books.  The story of the Phantom of the Opera had, obviously, fascinated him.  He had read plenty on the Phantom and even recommended a few of his favorites to her though he warned her of some disturbing things in those books.

She returned the favor.  Swan Lake had been equally fascinating to her.  She devoured every book she could get her hands on that was related to the story, so she recommended her favorites to him, relating similar warnings when necessary.

Everything about him fascinated her: the tone of seriousness he held under his smiles and laughter as though he had responsibilities he could not forget even as he relaxed, the way his eyes lit up when he talked about something he was excited about, the way he carried himself in a way that was both relaxed and alert.  He was intelligent, and then there was that _accent…_

That made her pause.  The voice was so _familiar, but all of the background noise made it impossible to place.  She supposed it would come to her later or once they had removed their masks._

After a while, Dolores desperately wanted to stretch her legs and possibly grab a commemorative photo with the mystery boy who had rescued her from pure boredom.  After contemplating the matter for several minutes, she decided that it would not hurt to ask.

"They're taking pictures.  Would you like to take one?" she suggested.

He hesitated, and she knew why: The flash of the bulb would be agony on his eyes.

"We don't have to," she added.

"No, let's do it."  He gave her a faint smile and offered his arm.

Dolores looped her arm through his, her hand landing on his forearm.  She walked beside him, blushing as the other kids stared as they passed.  She jerked her head downward in surprise when his other hand landed softly on hers.  She looked back up at him, but he kept looking forward, seemingly unaware of his hand's actions.

To her, an eternity passed before the pair reached the photo booth.  Taking a different envelope from the stack than he did, she filled out the necessary information so the photographer would send a copy of the picture to her mansion, suppressing the urge to glance at the information he wrote on the envelope he had taken.  But as soon as she had finished, she realized that her brother Reginald had her money.  Since the princess costumes had no pockets or purses, and since the Delightful Children had been expected to remain together, the blond boy had held on to of all of their money.

"Oh, no," she murmured to herself.

"Here."  The necessary amount fell next to her hand.

Dolores jerked her head up to see "Erik" looking in the other direction, clearly wanting to avoid seeing her name on the envelope.  "I can't just take your money!"

"It's all right.  I brought extra just in case one of my friends forgot their money, so take it."

"But – "

"Take it."

The gentle order in his voice, coming across as a firm request, prompted her to place the money in the envelope and seal it.  She handed the envelope the photographer's assistant as her mysterious friend did.

She had no problems as she was positioned in front of the camera, used to such treatment after enduring several family portraits taken by photographers.  However, her friend seemed to have difficulty being directed on how to stand, needing multiple directions in where to place his hands and feet and how to tilt his head.  Dolores had taken particular enjoyment out of watching him squirm as the photographer adjusted his costume the third or fourth time.

"Are you all right?" she asked him as soon as they were finished.

"I can't see," he admitted, lifting a hand to rub one of his eyes through the eyehole of the mask. "Stupid flash.  No dancing for me."

"I suppose it's for the best.  I can't dance."

He seemed surprised.  "I'm sure you can dance better than me."

"I bet I'm worse."

"Let's see then."

"You're kidding.  You won't be able to see what you're doing!"

"Your point?"

"You're crazy."

He smiled a bit crookedly.  "Maybe a little."

Dolores studied him for a moment.  His eyes were not focusing on her very well and were even watering a little.  He must have been in serious pain, but he was willing to give dancing a try with her.

She had to be honest with herself.  She _did want to dance with him but had not wanted to impose on him further, nor did she want to break his foot by accident.  (She was wearing low heels which would not do as much damage as high heels, but they _were_ still heels.)  But if he was so dead set on having his toes trod on then it was his funeral._

"All right, but I'm afraid you're going to regret it," she sighed.  Then she gave him a stern look. "But just one song.  You look like you're hurting enough already."

"Yes, ma'am," he teased lightly. "Shall we?"

They stepped out onto the dance floor just as the opening strains of "Through The Rain" by Mariah Carey came over the speakers.  Students left the floor for a break or paired off around them, but Dolores's full attention rested on her mystery man.

Naturally, they stumbled at first.  Due to the aftereffects of the flash on his light-sensitive eyes, "Erik" had problems leading them.  About a minute into the song, they found their rhythm.

The rest of the world vanished as far as Dolores was concerned as she danced with him.  When the song ended, another slow song, "Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore" by REO Speedwagon, began playing.  She thought at first that they would stick to their deal and go sit down, but they kept dancing instead.

In Dolores's eyes, this was heaven.  They tripped over each other's feet every so often.  As she predicted, she _did _step on his foot.  Yet for their dance's imperfections, it was more perfect than the rehearsed performances seen in movies.

At the end of the second song, the boy in the tuxedo murmured, "I'm sorry, but I need to get out of the lights, Odette."

Nodding, she took his hand.  The princess led her companion through the throng, knowing that his eyes were in too much pain for him to see straight if at all.  They sat in the plastic chairs in the darkest corner of the room.

"You okay?" she asked softly.

He nodded, holding his head in his hands.  "Just stayed out a little too long."

Blushing behind her mask, she said, "You didn't have to do the second song you know."

"I…really liked dancing with you," he admitted, his ears turning red with a blush mostly hidden behind his own mask.

Her blush deepened, and she opened her mouth to tell him that she enjoyed dancing with him as well.

But before the sentence left her mouth, her siblings appeared before them.  Dolores looked up into her blond brother Reginald's pale blue eyes.

"Time to go," those eyes told her.

She shook her head, pleading with her brother.  She needed to make sure her friend was all right.  She did not even know _who_ sat next to her.

Those eyes remained firm, unmerciful.

Sighing, she said to her mystery friend, "I'm sorry, but I have to go."

"Now," Reginald and the other three stated flatly.

She sighed again and stood.

"Then I hope to see you again," her friend said.

"And I hope I see you again, too."

Impulsively, she leaned forward and kissed him on the part of his mask covering his right cheek.

Her mysterious friend's ears turned even redder.

She sadly noted that he did not look up, yet it was quite understandable.  His eyes probably prevented him from looking.  What was dim light to her was far too bright to him now, especially when it reflected off of her white dress.

She turned away from him, walking with her siblings.  It was then that she realized that she had forgotten to ask him his name and wondered if it was too late to go back.

But he beat her to her own question, and his voice made her turn.

"Wait!  What's your name?!" he shouted, looking up, eyes squinting.

"It's Dolores!" she shouted, but the DJ decided at that moment to play what must have been the loudest heavy metal song in existence, swallowing up her response, and she doubted he could truly see well enough to read her lips.

Before she could even go back to repeat herself, her sister Veronica pulled her away towards the exit and away from "Erik."

@~^~~

Weeks later, Dolores searched the shelves at the local bookstore for anything of interest.  Then a title jumped out at her: _Journey Of The Mask by Nancy Pettengil.[3]  She paused.  It was one of the titles "Erik" had recommended to her._

She truly missed him.  Just the other day the photo from the masquerade ball had arrived.  She had placed it in a frame on her dresser.  Now she stared at his image, trying to puzzle out his identity every time she brushed her hair.

Adding the book to the small collection in her hands, she walked towards her siblings to rejoin the group at the salesclerk's desk.  But her journey was interrupted when she bumped into a familiar face.

Nigel Uno backed up a step to pick up his dropped books and adjust his sunglasses.  He growled, "Be a little more careful, Delightful Dork."

Dolores regarded him calmly though not without a little confusion.  The leader of the Kids Next Door was either in a very good mood or very distracted, for that was very mild compared to how he normally talked to her and her siblings.

"Would you like some help, Nigel?" she offered in her calm "Delightful Child" voice, not the warm voice she had used with "Erik."  She did not want to seem overly friendly with any member of the Kids Next Door, simply polite.

"No, I've got it," he snapped.

She watched as he collected his books and walked to the cashier, quickly paid, and left.  Shaking her head, she walked to the cashier in order to pay for her books, aware of her siblings waiting just behind her.

Two questions lay in the back of her mind the whole time:

Why _did he wear those sunglasses all the time?  Even the teachers let him wear them._

And did she see _The Black Swan by Mercedes Lackey[4] among all of those books, or was that just her imagination?_

  


* * *

[1] My personal theory for why Numbuh 1 wears his sunglasses even at night.  See Endnote #4 of "I'm Their Leader" for details.

[2] In both the book and the musical adaptation of the book _The Phantom of the Opera, Christine must choose between Erik (the Phantom) or her childhood friend Raoul._

[3] This is Nancy Pettengil's post-_Phantom_ story.  _Excellent book, but there are some disturbing scenes involving cult practices in it._

[4] This is Mercedes Lackey's retelling of _Swan__Lake.  Another excellent book, but there are some hints of less than noble behavior if you catch my drift._


	2. Phantom

Masquerade

By Cybra

**A/N:**  This is the second part in the two-part series!  Yay!  This one is most likely going to be a little longer.  You'll not only have Numbuh 1's POV on all that time spent with Dolores, but you also get some time at the tree house!  Yippy skippy!

**Special Notes:**  The name "Dolores" to name the Delightful Child with the bow was first used by Tikalightning in his _superb_ story "Operation DOLL," and I have his permission to use it.  (And I insert a shameless plug to boost his ego.  ^.-  And thank you to the _nice_ reviewers who spotted my minor spelling mistake!)

**Disclaimer:**  If I owned Codename: Kids Next Door, I have some really strange ideas that would be episodes.  You would _not _want to see that.

Phantom

Given a choice, Numbuh 1 would have remained at the tree house, catching up on work.  Since school had started, work had piled up more than ever.  He had a backlog of reports that felt like they were all due the next day that he should be doing.

But it was not enough that his mother had nagged him, saying he needed to be more social and make more than four friends.  No, Numbuhs 2 through 5 had bullied him as well.  Then, as the coup de grace, Numbuh 5 went as far as to quote the _Kids Next Door Handbook,[1] using a regulation regarding the amount of rest operatives were __supposed to have.  According to Numbuh 5 and the _Handbook_, Numbuh 1 did not have enough rest, so unless he took some time off, he was going to the Medics[2] for a physical assessment and enforced rest._

The leader wanted to shred the _Handbook in frustration._

So here he stood in a dark corner at the school's Halloween masquerade ball.  At first, he had spent time on the floor with his friends, but his light-sensitive eyes[3] were starting to get irritated.  The mask had done an admirable job of shading his eyes, but only his usual eyewear of sunglasses worked for extended periods of time.

Lizzie passed him by with her new boyfriend.  He silently wished the boy clad as Batman luck.  Keeping Lizzie would be difficult.  Of course, "Batman" most likely was not a section leader of the Kids Next Door whose attention was constantly divided in a thousand different directions and simply could not give Lizzie all the attention she needed and desired.

Numbuh 1 smirked.  It was not that Lizzie did not have her share of faults.  She was exceptionally possessive, pushy, and obsessive.  Little wonder the relationship fell apart once school was back in session and Lizzie was exposed to other and, as she saw them, better guys.

A girl his age came close to his corner dressed in a beautiful dress of white that any princess would have sold half of her kingdom in order to own.  Over her eyes was a mask, also white, in the shape of a swan.  The swan's wings stretched out over the girl's pale blue eyes.  On her head, instead of the gaudy crowns that several others had chosen to wear for _their princess costumes, was a simple circlet – almost a headband – of fake gold that seemed to add to her wavy blonde locks._

He studied her silently, unobserved in his dark corner.  After several moments, it became apparent that she was not going to leave.

Curious, he stepped out of the shadows, secretly enjoying using one of his favorite tricks: seeming to appear from nowhere.  (He had scared Numbuh 2 nearly witless once that way.)  "Good evening, Odette."

He smiled as she whirled around to face him.  He waited as she took in his Phantom of the Opera costume consisting of tuxedo, cape, gloves, and, of course, mask.  He doubted any of the Delightful Children would recognize him if they chose to appear at the masquerade that night.

As she clearly tried to recover her wits, she asked him, "Why did you call me that?"

He smiled charmingly at her, enjoying the game.  "What else do you call the princess of Swan Lake?"

Numbuh 1 was familiar with the story of _Swan__Lake after being forced into watching the ballet.  (Though he would rather have all of his teeth painfully yanked out than admit it, he had mildly enjoyed it.)  And he took impish delight in seeing her surprise at his knowledge._

"How can you be so sure that I'm Princess Odette?  I could be any princess."

"But not _any princess would wear a mask in the shape of a swan."_

He successfully suppressed a snicker as she reached up to touch her mask.  He saw her blush, for her mask did not cover her face as completely as his did.

Inwardly, Numbuh 1 frowned.  There was something familiar about her.  It was as if he had seen her before but where he had seen her escaped his mind.

Before he could ask if they had met before, she said, "I suppose you figured me out, Erik."

His smile vanished, and it was all he could do to keep his jaw from dropping.  The kids who _had_ managed to recognize his costume that night had addressed him as "Phantom."  The rest of the kids simply said "Nice costume" and returned to talking to their friends.  Her addressing him by the Phantom's actual name threw him off-balance.

After a few moments, he laughed.  "Lesson learned, my lady.  I wasn't expecting to be called anything except possibly 'Phantom' if you even _recognized_ my costume."

"I read the book before I saw the musical," she explained with a smile. "So, why did you decide to stand in that corner?"  She paused for a brief second, and he saw a glint of humor in her eye.  "Scare fair damsels and spirit them off to your kingdom of music?"

"Oh, _no.  What happens if they can't carry a tune?"  He winced then smiled, as she laughed.  "No, I couldn't stand it being so bright anymore.  The mask helps, but I needed a break."_

"Bright?"

All too clearly, he heard her incredulous tone of voice.  Inwardly, he sighed.  He hated admitting his weakness to light to _anyone._  Looking at the ground, he mumbled, "My eyes are _very_ light-sensitive.  _This_ is bright to me."

Unconsciously, Numbuh 1 gritted his teeth after he finished.  Normal light was near-blinding to him.  And despite what most people thought, it was not _completely_ darkeven on a moonless night, and his eyes hurt even then thanks to streetlights, headlights, and other sources of light.  His sunglasses were his only way of protecting himself from being unable to act at any point in time.

"Oh.  Well, that's all right.  You probably never get lost in the dark," she commented.

Hearing her say that cheered him up.  It reminded him that one of his greatest weaknesses was also one of his greatest strengths.  He did not have to carry around any bulky night vision equipment or a telltale flashlight on missions that involved dark places even though he normally carried a flashlight for his teammates' convenience.

"And what about you?" he inquired. "Why are _you_ playing wallflower?"

"I've been separated from my group," the girl he started to think of as "Odette" admitted. "I decided to wait until they find me."

"Judging by how bright – dark," Numbuh 1 corrected himself, "the room is and how loud it is, you're going to be waiting a while."

The girl in the princess costume sighed.

"Cheer up!  I think _I _can keep you suitably entertained."  He bowed as elegantly as he could.

Apparently he had done well enough, for she curtseyed in response.  "I'm sure you can, sir."

@~^~~

About an hour and a half passed with the two of them talking in their little corner of the room.  Even though he remained alert to his surroundings, Numbuh 1 relaxed.  He also noticed that she seemed to relax more and more in his presence.

When she had tried to introduce herself, he had surprised himself by stopping her.  On a whim, he told her to wait and follow masquerade tradition: their identities would only be revealed at midnight.  Surprisingly, she had agreed.

For one night, he was the mysterious Phantom of the Opera, and this Phantom had managed to win himself the company of a princess instead of an opera star.  Of course, this princess spent half of her time in the form of a swan, but, as the old cliché went, beggars could not be choosers.

She was interesting if nothing else.  She was reserved and polite but had an excellent sense of humor hidden underneath her reservations.  When she recommended her favorite books about _Swan Lake_ or spoke about other things she was interested in, her whole face lit up, and her hands became quite animated.  "Odette" was also very intelligent, and her pale blue eyes showed more and more of that intelligence the more she relaxed and opened up.

And she _still seemed so familiar!  Where _had _he seen her before?_

As Numbuh 1 asked himself that question, she asked a different one.  "They're taking pictures.  Would you like to take one?"

He hesitated.  The flash of the flashbulb without his sunglasses would be like stabbing daggers into his eyes.

"We don't have to," she added, seeming to sense his thoughts.

"No, let's do it."  He gave her a faint smile and offered his arm.

He was surprised that she actually took his offered arm.  Yet as they walked across the room towards the area where the photos were being taken, he saw her nervousness at all the stares they were attracting.  They must have made quite a spectacle: someone who looked like he belonged at the theatre with an elegant princess on his arm.  Without thinking, he rested his other hand on the hand holding onto his arm.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her jerk her head to stare down at their hands and then look up at him.  He kept his eyes focused forward, knowing he would make a fool of himself the second he looked directly at her.

It took forever to cross the room, and each of them took a separate envelope from the stack.  He hurriedly filled out the envelope, pulling the necessary amount of money he needed out of his pocket and inserting it into the envelope.

Her soft "Oh, no" drew his attention.

It took Numbuh 1 only a few seconds to realize that her group must have her money.  He rooted around in his pocket to find the extra bit he had brought in case one of the others had forgotten theirs.

Careful not to look at the information on her envelope, he tossed the money next to her hand.  "Here."

He then looked away from her.  It was no longer just about the information on the envelope.  He felt heat on his cheeks and did not want her to see him blushing.

"I can't just take your money!" she protested.

"It's all right.  I brought extra just in case one of my friends forgot their money, so take it."

"But – "

"Take it."

He used the gentle-yet-firm tone he used with his teammates when he wanted them to do something that was important but not life threatening if they did not get it done.

By listening carefully, Numbuh 1 heard her slide the money into her envelope and seal it.  Only then did he turn back towards her and hand the photographer's assistant his envelope while she handed the assistant hers.

There was a small problem getting the photo _done._  While "Odette" moved herself just as the photographer wanted her to right away, Numbuh 1 simply could not take direction from the man well.  When he placed his hand where the man wanted it, apparently he had not put it _exactly right.  And of __course his costume needed to be adjusted three or four times._

"At least you're getting a good laugh out of this," he had grumbled to "Odette" when she giggled.

Afterwards, neither was giggling.  He stumbled out of the photography area, led by the princess.  His eyes felt exactly as he predicted: like he had shoved a pair of sharp knives into them.  They watered, so Numbuh 1 was sure it looked like he had been crying.

"Are you all right?" she asked him, clearly concerned.

"I can't see," he admitted, lifting a hand to rub one of his eyes through the eyehole of the mask.  He remembered too late that this would make them hurt worse. "Stupid flash.  No dancing for me."

"I suppose it's for the best.  I can't dance."

He was surprised by this.  He had assumed that she knew how to dance.  "I'm sure you can dance better than me."

"I bet I'm worse."

"Let's see then."

"You're kidding.  You won't be able to see what you're doing!"

"Your point?"

"You're crazy."

He smiled a bit crookedly.  "Maybe a little."

As she studied him for a moment, he studied her through watery, pained eyes.  He had wanted to ask her to dance but had not known how.  This was the best opportunity he would get.  If she rejected his offer, he would be hurt but accept it.  As he reminded himself, it would not be the first time a girl had hurt him.

"All right, but I'm afraid you're going to regret it," she sighed.  Then she gave him a stern look. "But just one song.  You look like you're hurting enough already."

"Yes, ma'am," he teased lightly. "Shall we?"

Just as "Through the Rain" by Mariah Carey started playing, they stepped onto the dance floor.  Numbuh 1 took a deep breath and begged for mercy to whatever gods of dancing were out there.  He had never danced half-blind before.

Naturally, they stumbled at first.  They were not professionals, and it seemed as though the closest either had had to dancing lessons was watching movies with dancing in them.  On top of that, Numbuh 1 could not see what he was doing most of the time, so he could not lead very well.  In spite of this, they managed to find some sort of rhythm to their strange swaying half-waltz.

He had to admit that he enjoyed dancing with her.  As "Through the Rain" came to a close, he remembered their deal of dancing just one song.  A flash of regret flew through him.  One of the lights, tinted blue though the color was distorted by all of the fog and other lights, grazed his eyes, reminding him that his eyes would not be able to take much more of the punishment he was inflicting  upon them.

Knowing he would most likely regret it, he kept going as the DJ played REO Speedwagon's "Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore."  For one more song, he was going to enjoy dancing with "Odette." 

They somehow managed to keep the same rhythm they had found with the previous song.  But just because they had some sort of rhythm going did not mean that their dancing instantly became perfect.  They still stumbled every once in a while.  She even managed to step on his foot once, and he discovered she was wearing low heels.  Yet their mistakes did not make their dance any less special.

Unfortunately, all good things must end.  As soon as the song ended, Numbuh 1 came out of a sort of numbed fog and was met with unbearable stabbing pain from his eyes.  "I'm sorry, but I need to get out of the lights, Odette."

He closed his eyes but could still see the lights as they passed over his eyelids.  "Odette" took his hand and led him through the maze of kids and to a dark corner.  They sat in a pair of plastic chairs, and he placed his head in his hands.

"You okay?" she asked softly.

He nodded, holding his head in his hands.  "Just stayed out a little too long."

"You didn't have to do the second song you know."

"I…really liked dancing with you," he admitted, his blush mostly hidden behind the mask he wore.

She did not respond at first, and he thought he had offended her.  He felt like crawling into a dark hole and hiding when she suddenly sighed.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go," she told him regretfully.

"Now," a voice – or was it more than one? – stated flatly.

The voice or voices sounded familiar, but the sounds of the masquerade ball distorted them.  He wanted to look up to see if he could identify the owner or owners, but his head protested any movement since his eyes were sending so many pain signals to his brain at that moment.  Also, looking meant that he would actually have to open his eyes and _look, _allowing more light into his currently burning eyes.

She sighed again, and he heard her stand.

"Then I hope to see you again," he said, not looking up, unable to lift his head without pain.

"And I hope I see you again, too."

Even though his mask was made of plastic, he could feel the slight pressure on the cheek where she kissed him.  He blushed even harder than he already was from his earlier comment.  Perhaps she _had _enjoyed their dance and she had _not_ been offended by his admission of enjoying their dance.

When she left, he felt a sense of loss.  Guiltily, he noted it was worse than when he had broken up with Lizzie.  And then he realized that he had never gotten her name.

He jerked his head up, instantly paying for his rash action, and opened his eyes to squint in her direction.  Her white dress reflected the lights too well, blinding him.  He shouted to her, "Wait!  What's your name?!"

"It's – !"

Numbuh 1 cursed the DJ, for the man had chosen that moment to play the loudest heavy metal song on the planet just as she said her name.  To make matters worse, he could not see well enough to read her lips.  What looked like a shorter girl in a red dress led "Odette" away before he could even think to try to stumble towards the girl in white.

Once "Odette" disappeared from his handicapped view, Numbuhs 2 through 5 appeared.

"Hi, Numbuh 1!" Numbuh 3 chirped.

Numbuh 5 was less than cheery.  "You look awful.  You wanna go home?"

"What about you four?" the leader asked.

The other two boys snorted as Numbuh 2 answered, "The party was over half an hour ago.  We were lookin' for you."

"Yeah.  And who was the girl you were with an hour ago?"  Numbuh 4 smiled and raised an eyebrow suggestively.

"A friend.  Now can we please go home?" Numbuh 1 asked tiredly.

@~^~~

Numbuh 1 was grateful that none of his friends questioned him when he stole the bathroom for himself.  He needed to try to make the pain in his eyes stop and did not particularly care for an audience.

He had changed out of his costume and into his normal clothes rather than into his pajamas.  He had wanted to take a walk before bed if he could get his eyes to stop bothering him.  In the darkened bathroom, he leaned over the sink and held cool water to his face in his cupped hands, trying to soothe his pained eyes.  If it did not work soon, only then would he turn to painkillers.

Someone knocked softly on the door, and Numbuh 1 answered, "Come in."

Judging by that person's gait, it was Numbuh 5 who entered and shut the door, careful not to turn the light on.  His teammates knew about his little problem with light.

"You okay, boss?"

"I will be, but this isn't helping."  Sighing, he let the water splash into the sink and reached into the medicine cabinet for the Aleve.  After removing the cap, he shook four of the pills out of the bottle and into his hand, popped them into his mouth, and swallowed them with a gulp of water he took from the faucet, using his hands like a cup.[4]

"So who was she?" Numbuh 5 asked after he had finished.

The leader looked at her out of the corner of his eye as he slipped on his sunglasses.  "I called her 'Odette.'  I don't know who she really was."

With that answer, he left the bathroom.  He started to head towards his bedroom, intending to sleep and let the Aleve go to work, but changed his mind and headed towards the exit.

Exiting the tree house, he climbed up the branches to a secluded part of the tree's branches not attached to the tree house's roof.  Gazing up at the stars with the moon at his back, he sighed.

What felt like a few minutes later but in reality was about an hour and a half later, his watch beeped.  When he glanced at it, he noticed that it was now midnight, the appointed hour of their formal introduction.

"My name's Numbuh 1," he muttered bitterly to the absent princess. "So, what's your name?"

@~^~~

A few weeks later, he went to the bookstore to see if anything new and interesting had come in.  To his misfortune, the Delightful Children From Down the Lane had chosen that same day to visit.  Not in the mood for a confrontation, he tried simply avoiding them, but it proved a bit difficult since they split up to find their books.  The fact that the creepy siblings were not perfectly in tune on _everything _they liked and disliked made Numbuh 1 a little less nervous about them.  It was simply unnatural how five children could be that alike.

Things had been a little different since the masquerade ball and especially since he had finally gotten the photo.  The mystery girl known only as "Odette" had not resurfaced and had become a bit of an obsession for him.  In what little time off he had, Numbuh 1 puzzled over the picture and his memories, trying to figure out who the girl behind the mask was.

The fact of the matter was that he _missed "Odette."_

He had overheard Numbuh 5 murmuring and chuckling to Numbuh 3 the other day while he was studying the picture again, "Oh, he's got it _bad."_

Sighing to himself, he continued to scan the bookshelves until sitting there on the shelf as if mocking him was the book _The Black Swan_ by Mercedes Lackey, [5] one of the books "Odette" had recommended to him.

He hesitated for a moment before he picked it up.  He had nothing to lose by reading it.  He added it to his stack of books and turned to walk towards the cashier, but someone familiar ran into him, making him drop his books: the blonde girl of the Delightful Children.

Not wanting to deal with her but not wanting to be polite to her either, he growled, "Be a little more careful, Delightful Dork."

Numbuh 1 nearly slapped his forehead in disappointment.  He could come up with better lines in his sleep.  Instead, he simply bent down and gathered his books.

"Would you like some help, Nigel?" she offered politely in that cold, flat voice of hers.

"No, I've got it," he snapped, grabbing the last of his books and hurrying to the salesclerk's desk.

Quickly paying, he left the bookstore.

But even as he left, he had one question on his mind: Had she _really _been carrying a copy of _Journey Of The Mask_ by Nancy Pettengil? [6]

  


* * *

[1] The rulebook containing all the rules and regulations the Kids Next Door is run by.  It is often called "the _Handbook" for short._

[2] One of the _very _few exceptions to the "no operative over thirteen" rule, Medics are (obviously) the official medical staff of the Kids Next Door.  Their main branch is at the Moon Base where the equipment is as up-to-date as any hospital's.  Not surprisingly, once Medics are decommissioned, they usually go on to medical school to become real doctors.

[3] My personal theory for why Numbuh 1 wears his sunglasses even at night.  See Endnote #4 of "I'm Their Leader" for full details.

[4] No, Numbuh 1 is not trying to OD on Aleve.  I take about four at a time myself whenever I have a headache so I do not get a migraine.

[5] As I mentioned in the last part, this is Mercedes Lackey's retelling of _Swan__Lake.  _Excellent_ book, but there are some hints of less than noble behavior if you catch my drift._

[6] As I mentioned in the last part, this is Nancy Pettengil's post-_Phantom story.  An excellent book, but there are some disturbing scenes involving cult practices in it._


End file.
